


What Waits in the Wood

by webcomix



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Fate & Destiny, Foreshadowing, Gen, Pre-Calamity Ganon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21848512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webcomix/pseuds/webcomix
Summary: Link’s life is fairly mundane: run errands, clean the horses’ stalls, and spy upon the training soldiers at the military camp with the hope of joining them someday. But recently, his dreams have been less about shining armour and more about dark green forests and little leaf creatures that tinkle like bells when they float away from him.One day, the King sweeps into camp, bringing along the princess on her snowy white horse. He declares that one of them will become the next hero of Hyrule. Link has little interest in prophesies, but he needs to discover what waits for him in the Lost Woods.Note: This could be interpreted as Link/Zelda but only if you're looking for it. They’re just a couple of 7th graders who’ve known each other for less than 24 hours, after all.
Relationships: Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 192
Collections: Goldsmith's favorites





	1. The Boy

Link pushed his toes against the roots of the tree. This gave him just enough height so his fingers could reach the knothole. He felt bark, smooth and dry, and some old leaves, curled and crinkly. But nothing else. Link hopped back down and backed up a few paces to squint at the tree again. Yep, nothing.

He picked up the bow and checked his quiver. Sure enough, only five arrows were left. He had spent one aiming at the large acorn that had been sitting in that very knothole. Instead of splitting or falling out of the tree, the acorn had startled Link by shattering into a puff of leaves to reveal the strangest little creature hovering several feet above the ground.

“Yahaha!” it squeaked, twirling a green rod curled within a stubby, fingerless hand. “You found me!”

Then, it had winked — no more than a crease in its veiny leaf face — and floated up into the bright afternoon sky. After Link lost sight of it, he had inspected the tree for over 15 minutes. He couldn’t find anything else out of the ordinary. Before he could decide to give up on his own, there was a holler from below.

“Hey, Link! Where you been? Supplies just came in, and you know they’ll be expecting you to be there!” 

Link chucked the bow and quiver into the grass — he wasn’t supposed to have them — and scrambled down to meet the caller. The Hyrulean Royal Military Training Camp spread out across the Rauru hillside. To an outsider, the cramped, steep slopes seemed to be a very unusual location for housing the nation’s army, but Link gazed across the terraces cut into the rock before him and recognised every zone at once: the stables, the infirmary, the dormitories, the mess hall and its kitchen. The captains’ stone residences, the archery range, and the spacious sparring hall with its well stocked armoury. And on the highest plateau, the parade ground fortified by low parapets and splendid banners. The royal wingcrest rippled proudly above them all.

Pipit was waiting at the edge of the winding gravel road, his arms folded over his yellow tunic and tapping the toe of one boot. He started marching back to camp just as Link reached him. Afternoon sunlight glinted upon the chain mail beneath his sleeve. “You know what the old hands are like. Don’t go and give them something to complain about. The Captain’s got enough to deal with without you running off to do Hylia knows what.”

Pipit was seventeen and one of many squires lodged in the dormitories. As expected by the soldiers who held rank over him, he was often kept busy cleaning armour, mending equipment, and studying proper knightly conduct when not attending training sessions for sword and spear or participating in formation drills on the parade ground. Somehow, he still found time to look out for Link, who had just turned thirteen. Not even old enough to begin squiring, though he often climbed up the walls of the sparring hall to hide in the eaves and watch dueling lessons unseen. That was the closest he could get to officially learning anything at all about being a knight.

It was either that, or to go all the way back to East Necluda where his mother and sister tended to the cuccos and thought precious little about battles and chivalry. When the Captain had been summoned out of retirement to whip a new batch of soldiers into shape nearly two years ago, Link had sneaked out of bed and across Hyrule to follow him. He bartered his way onto the back of carts with foraged mushrooms and hand-caught lizards that merchants would pocket with a shrug. He had made it to Riverside Stable before the Captain got wind of these shenanigans. Amazingly, he relented and allowed Link to stay on at the camp.

On one pivotal condition, however. Link and Pipit reached the warehouses by the camp’s entrance. A large workhorse hitched up to a wagon waited patiently as burly men hauled crates of apples and acorns, barrels of salted meat, and great sacks of rice down from it. Pipit hurried to join the assembly line while Link circled to the front. He put a hand on the horse’s bridle and waited.

The soldiers’ tongues had started wagging the moment Link had set foot upon the wooden trellis into the camp. What was the Captain thinking? This boy was too young to loiter near weapons and fighting. He would get underfoot and into trouble. Link had to earn his way into their good graces. Even with squires around, his status as everyone’s personal chores-and-errand boy was key to keep them satisfied. Nobody could object at having someone else to do the most menial tasks.

Once the cart was fully unloaded, Link unhitched the horse and walked it to the stable. He did his best to stay out of the way of other squires. None of them paid him any mind except for Pipit, who deeply admired the Captain and went out of his way to impress him, like befriending his stowaway son.

The stables were cool and dark, located by a sheer stone cliff tucked away from the main hustle of the camp. When Link entered, the air inside was briefly charged with tension as slender, sensitive ears pricked up and nostrils flared. The horses calmed the moment they recognised his scent, resuming their quiet rest from cavalry. 

Link led the horse to an empty stall. He had strewn it with fresh straw just that morning. The horse seemed to like that, and he felt pleased despite the fact that her presence meant he would soon have to muck it out all over again. He settled into the rhythm of watering, untacking, and grooming. Link liked this job. It was easy and straightforward, especially for such an old mare like this one — she stood there languidly flicking flies away from her rump with each swish of her tail. He liked making sure every horse under his brush felt relaxed and safe by the time he was done. He liked to think that they appreciated it. He liked to think he was important to them.

And here in the dark stall, he was alone with only the snorts and shuffling of the destriers around him to accompany his thoughts. As Link filled up the water trough, his mind drifted back to earlier, much earlier than his experiment with the acorn. He had awoken at dawn from a most peculiar dream. Dreams usually began to fade the moment he opened his eyes, but this one still stayed with him in vivid detail. 

He had been wandering in a wood. A dim, endless wood filled with enormous creaky trees whose branches were bare but still blocked out all sunlight. Link could only see for the swirls of silver mist that shrouded the wood and curled around his legs as he walked along. Every now and then, soft motes of ethereal gold puffed out of the soft, springy moss when he stepped on them, fluttering around like fairies until they melted back into shadow. 

He had been following a song. It was a simple melody, three repeated notes so airy and light. Link still remembered them, humming to himself as he returned the grooming tools to their chest. Somehow, he was reminded of the musical chime of the little creature he had imagined at the oak tree. Surely, it had to have been his imagination. Link paused and patted his pocket. He reached inside and pulled out a tiny golden seed. It smelled funny, which only confirmed its existence. The creature had deposited it into his hand before it sailed away into the sky. Link frowned. But why?

His thoughts were interrupted by loud fanfare. The horses lifted their heads with their noses pointed to the door. Link dropped the strange seed and raced outside. He saw men and boys pouring down the paths from above, pulling on helmets and jostling each other to get to the entrance first. 

Men bearing halberds and pennants were marching through the gate, in countless rows of four abreast. They weren’t wearing the clunky plate armour of the average footsoldier but fine uniforms of navy and maroon, with gleaming white gloves and boots. Link’s breath caught in his chest. Royal guards, appointed to Hyrule Castle itself. That could only mean—

The guards parted, falling into a flanking formation to salute a snowy white stallion. Its hooves pounded the earth and sprayed mud at squires who had made the mistake of running right up to the edge of the path. Link flattened himself against the stable walls even at several metres away. Upon the stallion’s back rode none other than King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule. Link had never seen him before, but it had to be. The King’s eyes were dark and set into a leathery face sporting a permanently creased brow, his mouth unsmiling and hidden in a flowing beard even whiter than his steed. Hands that held the future of the kingdom now grasped the gold and purple reins, and he nodded to the soldiers dropping to their knees around him. Light caught upon the ruby embedded into his golden crown as he did so, and it seemed to shoot glaring beams back into the sky. A red ruby, red for Din and power, for the most powerful man in all of Hyrule.

Another stallion, less heavily built but with an elegant arch to its neck and an equally radiant coat, followed him. Still, its rider looked even smaller and more delicate in comparison. Link watched the first girl he had ever seen within the walls of the Military Training Camp trot past him. She had impeccable posture that her well tailored riding clothes accentuated: a stiff royal blue outer layer buckled with a golden belt over a crisp white blouse, and breeches tucked into what had to be very expensive boots. She didn’t even look at Link, her chin held high with an air of careful contemptuousness.

Her personal entourage was unique: six figures, three aside, keeping pace on foot easily despite the stallions’ long strides. They had oddly slim builds for bodyguards, especially with their sleek, skintight suits that didn’t seem to be padded whatsoever. Link supposed that they made up for their vulnerability with speed. Their faces were covered by masks, and red tattoos had been inked onto their foreheads. One turned their head and he saw a third eye staring right at him.

Soldiers stumbled back to make room as the procession slowed to a halt in the centre of the main courtyard. Link squeezed through the throngs to get a better view, even though the stallions raised their riders high above the rest. He poked his head out from between two soldiers in time to see the King swing himself down from the saddle. His boots landed with an audible _thump_ upon the packed earth, and the hem of his robes flared out, sparkling with gold lining. He looked up and paused.

Another man was taking a brisk walk up the opposite path. His face was tan from hours on the field, and his hair bleached to buttercream in comparison. His mail-clad shoulders were square and muscled from swinging two-handed weapons with ease, with one gloved fist now resting upon the pommel of a royal broadsword. Link realised that he must have known of the King’s coming, for it usually hung in a place of honour upon the wall in their personal chambers. Without a word of greeting, the Captain twitched aside his cloak and knelt before the King. Silence hung in the air as everyone watched the two of them, one humbled and the other waiting. 

Then, the King let out a booming laugh. “Ah, Captain! Retirement hasn’t softened you at all. But that makes me glad to have you back. I’m sure you have been imparting your acute sense of protocol to the recruits here.”

Hasty shuffles rippled throughout the crowd as soldiers attempted to stand straighter and look more professional. The King paid them no mind, offering a hand to help the Captain back up to standing. A rare smile crossed the Captain’s features as the men shared a brief brotherly embrace. Link blinked several times. He had never known just how close they were.

“What brings you here, your grace?” the Captain asked. His tone was colourless, practised. They were following a script. He knew exactly what the King would say, but the camp was his. 

King Rhoam turned from him and gazed around. “There has been a prophesy,” he said. 

The courtyard burst into chatter at once. Another prophesy? Only five years ago did a fortune teller reveal that the peace Hyrule had known for centuries would soon come to an end. The ancient god’s curse was preparing to strike again. It was only a matter of time.

The King raised a hand to silence the crowd. “In the woodlands toils a youth, pure of heart, who will bring light back to Hyrule. He must quest through the wood to take destiny in his hand and wield it.” 

_A youth._ The murmurs grew louder at these words. There were few actual knights around at the camp. Most of the men were recruits from the farmlands and provinces. Even so, one would be hard pressed to call them young — Link glanced over at where the squires huddled together. Pipit stood out in his yellow tunic, an excited flush across his freckled face. Were they finally going to be acknowledged?

King Rhoam was pacing the courtyard now, hands clasped behind his back. Faces grew hot and flinched as he stared into them one by one. “I need not explain myself. The prophesy is clear: one of you will be the new hero to protect our kingdom from Calamity alongside my daughter, Zelda.”

Everyone turned to the girl on the horse. Her expression didn’t change at all, but Link noticed how her fingers suddenly clenched at the reins when the stallion shook its head in annoyance. She lifted her chin even higher, doing an impressive job of feigning indifference.

King Rhoam stopped pacing to stand by the Captain. The men shared a look before the King spoke again. “You all will know better than most how treacherous the ancient woods may be. This camp is filled with brave men and true. I refuse to make a meaningless sacrifice of any of them simply to sate some malicious spirit. Therefore, the Captain has agreed to hold a tournament to root out the best among us. For the hero must have wisdom and power along with his courage to withstand the trials in the wood.”

The Captain took a moment’s pause before making his announcement. “If you wish to compete, be ready at the parade ground in two hours. Bring your own gear. In deference to the prophesy, squires may join as well, though they will be treated equally to a fully trained soldier. Dismissed!”

The frozen, rapt audience immediately melted into waves of men rushing about to get ready. Link was shoved and tripped over by those taller than him. He was wondering where to go when the Captain appeared before him. 

“I—” Link began.

“I know what I just said,” the Captain said in a low voice. It cut through the surrounding clamour and conversation but at the same time, was masked by them. “I cannot let you participate, Link. The King doesn’t want to see a child trying to fight grown men. He’s looking for someone who already has the skill. I’ll not have you waste his time or risk your future.”

Link said nothing about the stolen bow still lying in the grass by the oak tree. Or the rusty spear stashed behind the infirmary. Or the wooden training sword deemed unusable by the master of arms when it had split down the fuller, tossed out into the kindling for the next day’s cookfire but rescued after the sparring hall had emptied, and now concealed by a loose plank beneath Link’s bed…

“Link, listen to me. Don’t take this as a punishment. You can still be of use to the King.” The Captain looked over Link’s head and nodded. Link turned around and saw the girl finally dismounting her horse. She hopped to the ground on her own, long yellow hair swinging.

“I am assigning you to the princess as her attendant while she stays with us,” the Captain said. His tone brooked no protest. “Stable her stallion first, then go to the second guesthouse to wait your next task.”

Princess Zelda’s silent guard allowed them to approach her. The Captain performed a short bow and explained the situation. The princess didn’t decline, but her green eyes flicked down and up to assess her new subordinate. She didn’t smile.

When she handed Link the lead of her horse, he thought he heard something chiming, soft but abundantly clear.Three rising notes, drifting in from the north. Link almost turned his head towards it, but stopped himself in time. A slight wrinkle appeared in Princess Zelda’s brow.

Link bowed his head and walked the white stallion away from her, away from the music.


	2. The Princess

Link wiped his hands on his trousers one more time while he walked the path up to the stately guesthouse where the King and princess were lodged during their stay. He could already see the mysterious guards stationed at the entrance. They took a moment to glare down at him over the masks that covered their noses and mouths before begrudgingly stepping aside.

Link crept through the hallways of the house. Perched on the northwest slope of one of the far ridges, all sounds of the camp were muted. The windows only showed the glassy surface of Lake Mekar, that continuous shift from blue to grey to green. In the middle of the lake rose dark cliffs. Link could glimpse vague silhouettes through the mist that cascaded over the jagged edges and curled over the waters like steam.

Another masked guard directed him to a chamber at the end of the hall on the first floor. The door was ajar. Feeling awkward and nervous, Link peeked inside.

The room was furnished handsomely with carpets on the stone floor and tapestries drawn round the four poster bed in the centre. Two carved chairs upholstered with varnished leather sat round a table with fragile legs thinner than his arm. A matching chaise lay beneath a window streaming the last of the afternoon light in. Link hadn’t known such luxuries had been hidden away here at camp.

That was because they weren’t meant for him. They were for princesses like the one he now watched. An oaken trunk sat open at the foot of the bed, and she was rummaging through it. Link could hear the thunking of things being pushed around, then Princess Zelda straightened up with an stack of books in her hands. She spun on her heel and marched towards the spindly little table. Link winced when she dropped them down, but it miraculously held.

Princess Zelda continued sorting her possessions. She had an energy about her, bursting and bright and borderline maniacal — how different she was, now out of the public eye. She flung clothes onto the bed, more books onto the chaise, and a flimsy white dress back into the trunk with a noise of disgust. Finally, she tried to cradle an armful of odd silver trinkets that spilled over her elbows and onto the floor. One of them, a glowing ball, managed to whiz across the room, slipping neatly between the opening that Link had his eye pressed to.

He barely had time to scoop it up before the door whipped open. Link turned around and she was suddenly there. Princess Zelda squeaked in surprise, throwing up her hands. Link did the same without thinking.

Luckily, they managed not to collide. Princess Zelda breathed heavily, stepping back and lowering her hands. “Oh, it’s you.” Her face settled into a hard stare as she stretched out her arm, palm up. Link deposited the ball into it.

“What do you want?” She flicked her hair behind her shoulder and drew herself to full height. She was not, Link thought in dismay, _that_ much taller than him.

“What do…” He realised repeating the question would seem impertinent. “…you need, Princess?”

Princess Zelda looked behind her at the room made messy by her own doing. The metal objects still lay scattered across the floor, some of them spinning in place or rolled behind the heavy furniture. “Pick those up, and give them to me.”

Link obeyed. He was aware of her scrutiny as he bent over to gather screws, springs, and gears. Princess Zelda perched on top of her trunk and did nothing to help save for lifting her feet so he could reach another silver ball. She finally said something again as he handed it to her. “Do you know what they are?”

“No, Princess.”

“They’re ancient Sheikah artefacts!” she cried out. “Why, a single core like this one possesses a powerful energy force that is over ten thousand years old. They’ve been excavated from beneath Hyrule Castle by the most learned of Sheikah historians, so do be careful.”

Link was certain that there was little he could do to a piece of metal, but he nodded. This only seemed to encourage her. Each artefact that he returned launched another lecture about what it was and its hypothesised purpose. Princess Zelda talked in such a hurry, the words pouring out of her like they needed release before it was too late. She stumbled over phrases and retracted a few with a flurry of her hands. She was so fidgety, and unable to keep her voice level whenever she arrived at another exciting piece of information regarding the artefacts’ potential. Perhaps she had been waiting to tell someone these theories for quite some time.

Eventually, the princess slowed down. Link was nosing into corners of the room to ensure he had every last piece when she asked the first non-artefact related question. “What’s your name?”

“Link, Princess.”

She scoffed. “Link! How pedestrian. You know, it’s a commonly held belief amongst academics that Link was simply a metaphorical placeholder selected by oral storytellers to foster homogeneity. After all, there were several of heroes across history and often separated by centuries, if not millennia.”

He barely understood what she was talking about. Princess Zelda wrinkled her nose. “What are you doing here at the Military Camp, anyway? I didn’t think they allowed children to train.”

Link was tempted to drop the artefacts so they could scatter all over the floor again. And this time, he wouldn’t stick his arm underneath the dusty bed to get them for her. Instead he gave them over and stepped back, folding his hands behind him like the Captain sometimes did. “Yes, Princess. But I, I’ll start training…” Link went red when he realised how pathetic he sounded. “…soon.”

“When? In four years? Five? How old are you, anyway?”

“I’m thirteen.”

She blinked, then quickly composed herself. “Oh. I am thirteen too... at the end of the summer, I mean.”

They both lapsed into silence. Link could feel the princess’s thoughts thickening the air. He couldn’t tell if she was trying to get a rise out of him with the snide comments and petty demands, or if she simply didn’t notice. They said the royal family was descended from Hylia's incarnation herself, and all the princesses Zelda were destined to wield the Goddess’s sacred power. But the girl in front of him didn't seem very sacred-power-like. She was nibbling her fingernails and frowning into space.

A muffled cheer came echoing from beyond the thick walls. Princess Zelda scowled, hopping off the trunk and marching to the window.

“Father’s tournament,” she said bitterly. “It may take over a week to examine every silly boy who wants to impress him with some fancy stick-waving, and that’s even before we may even begin planning for the Woods. Oh, I’m sorry. You’re one of them too. Isn’t that what you training knights all want? To be the next hero?”

“No, Princess.”

She shot him a sideways glare, clearly thinking that he was being untruthful. Link tried to explain himself anyway. “It’s… it would be too much pressure. What if I made a mistake? I could serve the kingdom in other ways without trying to save it all on my own.”

She studied him for a moment with narrowed green eyes. Then, she smiled. “Very good answer.”

Before Link could say anything else, the princess looked down at the chaise and shoved some books over, not reacting when a few went tumbling to the floor. She took a seat and patted the spot beside her. After a moment’s hesitation, Link went and sat.

Princess Zelda picked up one of the remaining books, a thin bark-bound journal. She opened it and showed him an illustration. “Have you seen this before?”

Link squinted at the page. It was a pencil sketch of a flower, delicate and pale. It had five petals spread out like the points of a star and a short, slender stem. The artist had been diligent to label details about it from measurements to colour to descriptions of scent and texture.

He had to say that no, it was not familiar. Princess Zelda looked disappointed. “It’s called the silent princess. It’s a rare, endangered species on the verge of going extinct. We have collected a few specimens from across Hyrule in hopes of growing domestically, but we’ll see whether that works. I was hoping that with such proximity to Great Hyrule Forest, there would be more of them around here.”

They both turned to look out the window behind them. Dusk was really falling now, with Lake Mekar already tinged pink by setting sun. Or perhaps it was the distant canopy of blossoms that crowned the forest itself, visible even above the shadows and mist. Princess Zelda leaned forward until her forehead rested upon the glass.

“The legends say that an heirloom of Hyrule is kept hidden within the woods, watched over by an immortal guardian who will only permit its release when the chosen one appears to claim it. Father believes that this must mean the spirit of the hero, especially so after the new prophesy. After all, the legends also say that the Hero of Time also came from the woods. And what is the most famous of all heirlooms that belongs to him? The sword that seals the darkness.”

Link felt his heart stop. The sword. Everyone knew about the sword. It was present in every story about the hero, no matter which era. And each story always ended the same way: the hero facing off the monstrous evil, Ganon, with naught but a shield and the blade of evil’s bane. The knights of Hyrule paid homage to their mythological patron with gleaming shields engraved with the royal wingcrest and holy Triforce, but it was unthinkable to try imitating the sword. Sacrilegious, even.

“Father thinks only the hero should be allowed the sword,” Princess Zelda said. She pulled away from the window. “But I have found out something very interesting. Listen!”

She grabbed a different book off the floor and opened it to a marked section. “One dark, fateful day, the earth cracked wide and malevolent forces rushed forth from the fissure. They drove the land into deep despair, burning forests to ash and choking sweet springs with malice, all this in their lust to take the ultimate power protected by Her Grace, our Goddess Hylia. The power she guarded was without equal, handed down by the golden goddesses of old.”

Link knew this story as well as the next Hylian child, but he waited. Surely, Princess Zelda must have a point. “To prevent this great power from falling into the hands of the evil swarming the lands, the Goddess gathered her people on an outcropping of earth. She sent it skyward, beyond the reach of the demonic hordes… Now, look at this!”

The princess pressed her shoulder into his, pointing at the woodblock illustrations upon the page. They were faded and blotchy. Even the Goddess herself was only identifiable through the streaks of paint signifying her skyward sword and the curve of a harp in the other hand. But as Link followed Princess Zelda’s finger down the page, only the harp remained at the end of the tale, replaced by an island rising above the clouds behind the Goddess.

Princess Zelda hugged the book to her chest. “We know from history and legend how Hylia herself planted the sword that seals the darkness within her sacred statue for her chosen hero to find. But this implies something more. She didn’t create the sword for the hero… she gave him her own!”

Her words tripped over each other again as she tried to string her rushed thoughts into sentences out loud. “I mean, it could work! The other princesses’ relics did absolutely nothing. Not the epaulettes, nor the gossip stone, not even the crown itself. That’s because they were mere descendants, a bloodline diluted by generations away from her first incarnation. But this would be her personal blade, brimming with sacred aura, pure and concentrated. It’s even in the name: the sword that seals the darkness! I wouldn’t even have to touch it. Just stand near it. Surely, it must work!”

He didn’t know what she was talking about. Princess Zelda vibrated with frantic excitement, and she bounced up from the chaise to flit around the room anxiously. She stopped and wheeled around to face Link again.

“I need you to help me with something. But you mustn’t tell anyone.” Barely contained glee trembled in her voice, sharp and urgent. “Swear you’ll keep it to yourself. Swear it!”

"I promise on my honour that I will be always loyal to the royal family of Hyrule, never cause it harm and will observe my homage to the Goddess Hylia completely against all who seeks its ruin in good faith and without deceit.”

The words rolled off his tongue before he could prevent them, so much time spent listening to graduating squires in ceremony before the lords and captains each summer, along with the secret practice he conducted beneath his bedsheets when nobody could hear him.

Princess Zelda looked amused. “Isn’t that the…?”

He felt his ears growing hot. “The knight’s oath, yes.”

She smiled, and for the first time Link felt true kindness and warmth from it. “Then I accept your oath, Sir Link.”

Even if a princess said it, it didn’t make him a knight just yet. But hearing a princess say it did make him feel stupidly good. Thankfully, Princess Zelda didn’t seem to notice the shy embarrassment leaking out of his ears and pressed her forehead against the glass again, this time pulling on his sleeve so he would join her. “There.”

They both strained to look directly beneath them. The waters of Lake Mekar had eroded the northern slopes of the Rauru Hillside into lopsided rocky cliffs. Princess Zelda’s assigned chamber sat right over one of these outcroppings, and Link could just barely see a narrow, sandy ridge a few metres down. It hugged the side of the hills, running under similar overhangs to make a direct path towards Minshi Woods, which was a preface to Great Hyrule Forest itself.

“If I’m to find the sword,” Princess Zelda said, “I need rope.”

Link stared down into the gorge. Then, the meaning hit him and he recoiled. “What?”

“Rope,” Princess Zelda repeated, putting on a great show of patience. “My Sheikah guards will be keeping a close watch, but even they won’t expect anyone coming in by way of this sheer wall of rock. Or coming out.” She lowered her volume to a conspiratorial whisper, eyes gleaming.

“But—”

“I’m not afraid of the Woods,” Princess Zelda declared, flipping her hair again. Her eyes bored through the smudged glass at the cloud of mist in the distance, now nearly black with night. “I have the blood of the Goddess. I’m only seeking what was mine from another life!”

Link was speechless. He almost jumped out of his skin when there was a sharp knock upon the door before it opened. “Princess,” one of the Sheikah said, “Your Father the king has stated that you will join him for a dinner with the captains of the camp in precisely one hour.”

“Understood,” she called back. Princess Zelda seized Link’s sleeve again and dragged him to the door. “Come back here before then,” she ordered, “and bring me what I requested. Don’t tell anyone!”

Link was escorted out of the guesthouse by the Sheikah. He raced down the path, his boots slamming into the gravel and sending loose pebbles trickling down the slope. The camp was teeming with soldiers returning from the tournament, nursing bruises and minor injuries. Pipit called to Link as he jogged past the infirmary, but there was no time to answer.

Link's heart was pounding as he looped some heavily braided rope into a coil whilst crouched in the corner of the craftsmen’s yard. What was he doing? It would be wiser to take no part in the princess’s ludicrous plans… but as he hoisted the rope onto his shoulder, Link suddenly had the mental image of Princess Zelda striding forth from the trees, yellow hair billowing behind her as she brandished the Goddess’s sword in her hand. He couldn’t lie. He wanted to see it.

Link managed to make it to her chamber door before an hour had gone. When it opened, he stepped back in surprise. Princess Zelda had changed out of her riding gear into a long gown of royal blue. The symbols of the royal family were stitched on in thread of gold, and she had a matching headdress pinned with a Triforce emblem around her hair.

“About time,” was all she said.

“Princess?” called a voice down the hallway.

Princess Zelda snatched the rope from Link, and all airs of regality evaporated when she shoved it beneath her skirts. Link stood there with his mouth open until a Sheikah appeared round the corner. “Princess Zelda, your father awaits.”

“Coming, Impa,” the princess said. Her face was a mask of serenity.

Link stayed for the dinner, hovering behind Princess Zelda to wait upon her. He avoided the gaze of the King and the Captain, who was also present. She was the picture of perfect princessy politeness despite the fact that she was sat atop several inches of of rough-weave braid. It was a good thing her gown had so many petticoats — the folds camouflaged any strange shapes beneath. Link looked up from serving the drinks to see the Captain was frowning at him. Link knew there was no way to explain why he had been staring at the princess’s skirt, so he backed away until his shoulders touched the wall. Thankfully, the King didn’t notice at all.

Princess Zelda still played aloof and condescending until late in the evening, when Link and the Captain took their leave. She trailed them to the doors of the guesthouse, even when the King had retired to his chambers.

“I hope that he has been a help and not a hindrance,” the Captain said to her.

“Oh yes,” she replied. “He’s been very helpful.” She turned to Link, and he was disarmed by the big grin that she suddenly gave him.

The Captain raised an eyebrow at the way Link flushed red, but said nothing else. “Goodnight, Princess.” He set off down the path, not waiting for Link to follow.

Link and Princess Zelda looked at one another. He was sorely tempted to say something to urge her to abandon her plan. He was unnerved by the very idea of striding into the forest like one owned it. Nobody owned the forest. The knights spoke often and at length about courage, which was the legacy of Farore manifested through the hero of Hyrule. But the princess had gone beyond that. He didn’t know whether to be alarmed or impressed.

“Goodnight, Link,” Princess Zelda said. She was still smiling, ever so pleased with herself. “And thank you.”

She turned away, hair and skirts flouncing — with that rope still bouncing along her hip! — as she skipped off back towards her chamber. The Sheikah moved to block Link’s path to her, a not-so-subtle hint that he had outstayed the welcome.

So he walked away, feeling the cool breezes from the Forest whispering over his skin and raising goosebumps along his arm, with a sinking feeling in his stomach that he had made a grave mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting off the new year strong! I had so much fun writing this part. Wanted to highlight class differences between a princess and her errand boy, and how insufferable she probably comes across to him… at first, anyway. But she’s just lonely and awkward and hasn’t yet figured out how to speak to her peers!
> 
> It seems like another theme of this fic is 'let's reference Skyward Sword as much as possible'.


	3. The Wood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd planned the date of this upload in advance (if I don't give myself deadlines I won't make 'em) but it coincided with a bunch of people suddenly leaving kudos. /waves/ Hello! Thank you! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

That night, Link was back in the woods.

He followed the song until he emerged from the dark into a clearing. There were streams of clear water before him, fed by waterfalls and snaking through a green carpet of grass that hid tiny flowers. Link walked through it, setting off puffs of pollen that glittered briefly before settling into the shadows again. As he walked, the inhabitants of the clearing scurried near to watch him, short and slender figures clad in green. They stood behind rocks, beside root, or perched atop huge, hollowed-out stumps. Their round, fearless eyes shone when the twinkling motes of light spinning around their heads swung past their ears. When Link met their gazes, they giggled behind cupped hands.

Link climbed up a rickety wooden ladder to a balcony affixed to one of the stumps. One of the children was standing at the rail, her hair as verdant as the leaves around her. She clasped her hands in front of her in a gesture of sorrow and hope. “I hope that you’ll think of me and come back to the forest to visit!”

Link rolled over on his bed. The warm air of the clearing was gone, replaced by his scratchy mattress and the unpleasant sticky-wetness of sweat. He kicked his legs free of blanket and stumbled outside.

By the time he reached the water pump, his thoughts had more or less settled. Link took a long, cool drink. There was no reason to feel bad about forgetting friends he never had. His chest still ached, however, still surged with longing to duck inside that tree trunk house to sleep on its bed. He wanted to crawl through the tunnels, race along the rope bridges and take a seat on the side of a log, swinging his legs over the edge while the fairies chimed in rhythm to the whispering notes from a simple ocarina.

Link wiped his mouth and shook his head back into the present. In these woodlands, the restless crickets hummed steadily, and he heard the distant call of mountain crows. They were specks swooping across the pink blossoms that rose above Great Hyrule Forest.

“The legends say that an heirloom of Hyrule is kept hidden within the woods, watched over by an immortal guardian who will only permit its release when the chosen one appears to claim it.”

Link tripped over his feet and fell against the pump handle. Ice-cold water gushed onto his legs, and he nearly twisted his ankle skidding out of the way. Slapping at his soaked trousers, Link felt panic walloping his stomach. The forest — the lake — the rope — the princess! Had she gone through with the plan? Had she made it to the wood at all, or was she trapped on that precarious ledge? Was she safe? Was it his fault?

Link sprinted from the pump back to his bed, clasping a cloak around his shoulders with numb fingers and reaching beneath the floorboard for his splintered sword. Maybe it was the disorientation of the dream, or maybe guilt from enabling her wild schemes. Maybe it was the oath that he had sworn under the stare of excited green eyes. It didn’t matter, anyway. Link had to go.

It was easy to sneak out of the camp. There were more guards than usual along the perimeter due to the presence of royals, but Link had spent the better part of two years traversing this mess of huts and warehouses. He squeezed down alleys narrower than a barrel and clambered over walls, his fingers digging into the soft mortar between the stones. Soon, he was racing through Minshi Woods, scattering fireflies and passing silent shrooms that glowed like ghosts in the roots of trees. Wind whistled past his ears, flicking up the hem of his cloak.

The road narrowed. Fog rolled over the path before him until he could hardly see — three blue-winged herons took flight from practically beneath his feet at one point, startling him. Mercifully, a light began to glow in the distance. Link waded through the mist towards it.

Blurry shapes sharpened into focus as he drew closer to the light. It was a fire, thriving upon the brazier where it burned and sent sparks into the wind. The princess must have lit them. Link spied another, and then another. He walked from fire to fire, feeling the adrenaline that had built up on the way here slosh around his chest. It was hard to reconcile how… _normal_ Great Hyrule Forest turned out to be. The trees here were hardly any different from what Link saw in the rest of the woodlands. Lacking in leaves, for sure, but otherwise identical. The night was quiet but not silent, with crows squawking and flapping their wings nearby. A fox with gleaming copper fur barked twice at Link before darting away. The coals on the braziers cast smoke into the air, a pleasant and comforting smell that reminded Link of roast dinners. His stomach even gurgled as he walked towards a final bright red glow almost hidden in gloom.

Link’s confident amble slowed down when he reached the last fire. Fires, actually. Two braziers glowed silently before the gaping maw of an old, old tree. Link recoiled at the crooked grin. Or grimace. He could have easily squeezed his whole body into the hollow without any of the ragged splinters scraping his skin.

The tree wasn’t the worst part. Link sank to his knees and touched the dew-soaked edges of the book lying between the fires. It was open. The faceless Goddess stared up at him on the page, her sword raised high. Against what? An eerie silence had descended upon this part of the wood. Link picked up the book and looked around. “Princess?”

Silence. Mist. No reply. No more light. Nothing at all to guide him.

There was a torch leaned against the pillar of one brazier. It shook, because his arm shook, when he dipped its end into the fire. He hugged Princess Zelda’s book to his chest and felt his heartbeat drum against the hard leather cover. Link took a single, shuddering breath and stepped into the true wilderness of the Lost Woods.

Link’s biceps ached from holding aloft the torch, whose light was dim and uneven as the flame sputtered and twitched, and from keeping the heavy book close to his body. It wasn’t for lack of strength — he had done countless hours of the hardest, dullest tasks in the camp — but for the cold, creeping dread that wrapped itself around him and jabbed at his skin. The faces in the trees were grotesque and horrible, seeming to leer at him with their long branches laden with dry leaves that whispered and crackled in the wind. The ground was soggy with rot and mud, sucking at his feet each time he took another step. A wolf’s howl ripped apart the silence, and it spiked a wave of shock down Link’s spine. He almost dropped the torch and book, but managed to keep them steady.

The way forward was nothing. Link turned around, and it was nothing. Left, right, he took tiny, nervous steps in a circle and it was nothing, nothing. Lost in the Lost Woods, like all the other fools who had thought they would make it through here.

“Princess Zelda!” Link called out, but only nothing called back.

He was blinking warm wet from his eyes when he heard. It was a soft sound, almost muffled by the unending, suffocating mist. Link swallowed the last of his tears and followed. It hardly resembled the song from his dreams anymore, but the little chimes were still individual notes, plinking delicately like dew drops off a leaf.

Eventually, the trees thinned. Eventually, rocks appeared. They created borders around him, a sense of guidance in the unpredictability of the wood, forming something like a path. Link’s shoulders sagged with relief as grass started to crunch beneath his boots again. The torch fizzled out, so he dropped it.

The mist melted away when he ducked into an enormous log, and when he emerged, he was no longer in the woods.

Silver moonlight shone down from above, illuminating the area almost as brightly as day would. The air was warm and heavily scented from flowers. Ferns, leaves and vines unfurled with pride and pleasure, each one a healthy green with waxy surfaces so bright that they glinted. Link splashed through shallows as he moved further into the clearing, and that set off a cloud of little wood creatures flying out of the brush. They swooped about on their spinning seed things, giggling and singing their bell-songs. Some had sprouted mushrooms, some had moss, but they all had leaf faces.

“Welcome, welcome!” they cried out. “You found us!”

They floated around Link, herding him towards a small stone platform in the centre. He stopped in his tracks when he saw what was waiting there, but little branchlike appendages tugged on his sleeve and trouser legs. “Come, come! We’ve waited so long!”

In the very middle of the platform was a triangular pedestal, so worn that there were no marks left. Rising from it stood a long, slender sword. Its hilt was indigo, almost black in the shadow of night. The blade was the opposite: pristine and shining silver — no, blazing white. Even the gold gem set between the winged quillons looked dull compared to it.

Link stood at the edge of the platform, not daring to come any closer. He was so enthralled by the sword that a deep, rumbling voice caught him off guard. “Who is that? Did I doze off again?”

The tiny wood creatures jingled with joy as pink petals showered down from above. Link took another step back as the greatest tree of them all, larger than even ten of the monstrous ones he had left behind in the wood, stirred. Grooves in the bark mimicked tired eyes, the curve of a nose, and edges like lips that stretched impossibly as a face appeared. “Well, well. It’s you. I was wondering when you would return.”

Link didn’t know how to respond. As far as he knew, he had never been here before. Just then, one of the small creatures chimed three familiar notes. He must have looked startled, because the big tree chuckled.

“Yes, return. Though I am not offended by your forgetfulness. The last time the hero’s soul stood before me was tens of thousands of years ago. I have watched over Hyrule since time immemorial. Many have referred to me over the ages as the Deku Tree.” The Deku Tree waved its branches once again. “And that is the weapon created by the ancient Goddess. The sword that seals the darkness — that only the chosen one can wield.”

Exactly as the King had said.

“Believe it or not, destiny has driven you through the wood to this sword. But I must warn you to take extreme caution. The sword stands as a test to anyone who would dare attempt to possess it. The wrong hands, no matter how noble the intention, would surely fail, perhaps even lose their life.”

Link’s stomach lurched with fear and relief at the mental image of Princess Zelda collapsing over the pedestal.

“As you are now, I cannot say whether you are worthy or not. Still. Will you pull the sword from its resting place?”

Link looked at the sword. It gleamed under the night sky. He slowly nodded.

The Deku Tree laughed, vibrating through its roots and the ground around it. “Best of luck, young one. You must use your true strength. Let us see whether or not you currently possess said power.”

The small wood creatures backed away into the grass and bushes at the edge of the platform, leaving Link alone before the sword. It was tall, with the pommel barely clearing his shoulders. He had to lift his elbows high to make sure his hands reached the grip. Link closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and pulled.

At first, he thought nothing was happening. The tip of the sword was lodged in tightly, surprisingly so for only a few inches of such a long and fine blade. But as Link strained his muscles, he became aware of his energy draining away, sliding down his limbs and into the sword as quickly as liquid tumbling out of a jug. He pulled harder, the edges of his consciousness beginning to blur even as the sword began to loosen, the telltale sound of metal scraping against stone dim in his ears…

Link gasped as his trembling arms lifted the sword free of its pedestal, leaning so far back to do so that he nearly tumbled down the platform’s shallow step. The wood creatures rushed to his aid, huddling around his ankles even when he swayed on wobbly legs. Link let the sword clatter against the stone to plop himself down in an exhausted heap.

“Well done,” rumbled the Deku Tree. The blade of evil’s bane sparkled in full light of the moon.

Link reached out and touched it again. As soon as his fingers brushed against the hilt, warmth began to shoot up his arm — the sword giving back all of his strength generously. Link curled his fingers around the grip, feeling them settle neatly into the indentations left by its previous master. With the trial over, the solid, heavy thing resting in his hand now felt familiar and comforting, not intimidating at all. Link even laughed.

The wood creatures were utterly thrilled. They swarmed him with congratulations, apples, and acorns, urging him to rebuild his energy after the trial. Link was never one to decline free snacks. While he ate, he watched the creatures haul away his broken training sword. They planted it into the soft soil and danced around it, coaxing pale green buds of leaves out of the wood surface.

“Did you know that we are related?” chirped one of them by his knee. Link must have made a skeptical face, because it huffed and waved a berry-laden twig under his nose. “It’s true! We are Koroks, children of the forest! And we adopted one of you, a long time ago! Why do you think the hero’s always wearing green, huh?”

Hazy visions of short figures in green appeared in Link’s mind. Another Korok waddled up to him with yet another gift: a five-petaled flower, its edges glowing in the darkness. The contented satisfaction of being fed and cared for disappeared. He had come to the forest for a different reason.

Link leaped to his feet, scattering Koroks and acorn caps. He apologised profusely to them and turned to the Deku Tree. The guardian of Great Hyrule Forest seemed unperturbed, almost like it had expected this.

“The soul of the hero appears in each age to come to the aid of Hyrule. And the future of Hyrule itself… is indeed in danger of being swallowed up by the cold oblivion of the Lost Woods. But worry not,” the Deku Tree said. “That blade has a name. It is the Master Sword. When used in the name of the Goddess, it will become suffused with a holy light. At such times, the true power of the sword will manifest. Use it with care, and wield it bravely for the one who needs you.”

Link thanked the Deku Tree. Then, he turned and raced back into the wood, leaving the bliss and bells of the Koroks behind him. And the Master Sword glowed in his hand, sure to guide him to Princess Zelda.


	4. The Sword

Link hurtled out of old hollow log. The forest of the Koroks faded away behind him with every step further through the grass — fresh and flourishing at first, then giving way to the dry, coarse weeds of the Lost Woods. 

He slowed down. The greens and golds had vanished completely, replaced by grey shapes lurking in the pale void. The fog pressed close around him, only recoiling from the light of the sword. It felt warm in his hand. Alive, even. He could swear that it was humming softly, a steady and swift drumming against his skin in assurance that he wasn’t alone in this desolate place.

In the thick of the wood, there was no sign of Princess Zelda. Not since she had abandoned her book by the braziers. Although he too had left it with the Koroks, Link remembered the image of the Goddess. He glanced down at her sword, then lifted it high so it pierced the gloom hanging over his head.

“Help?” he whispered.

Nothing happened at first. Link felt foolish. But just before he lowered his arm, the tip of the blade began to sparkle. Link fumbled to keep the sword aloft as rays of light emanated from the sharpest point. He turned around on the spot, watching incandescent aura flicker and grow like an ethereal violet flame. Once it was at its most brilliant and bright, Link started walking.

The trees forced his path to twist and turn. He was completely dependent on the sword to guide him, backing away when the glow dimmed or when silver vapour came sweeping in and threatening to engulf him whole. Strangely, none of it frightened him. Link just knew that this was the right thing to do. If it wasn’t, he would be in serious trouble but… he simply felt in his heart that he wasn’t. Not a bit.

The sword’s light cut through the fog one more time. Link saw the princess laying in the roots of one of the mean old trees, curled up like a puppy with her arms around her knees. There were leaves in her hair, and her face was streaked with dirt. The fine material of her riding blouse was torn down the sleeve. It could not have been more than just a few hours since she had climbed down the rope back at the camp, but new roots had already begun its work: curling around an ankle and snaking over her shoulder to inch around her neck. 

Link’s throat tightened at the sight. He barely thought, or hesitated before swinging the Master Sword down. It sliced through the air mere inches above Princess Zelda’s head, disturbing only a few wisps of golden-yellow hair that had been loosed from her braid. The blade sank into the trunk. Beads of dark sap immediately formed along the edges and trickled along the grooves in the tough bark. Link pulled the sword away, ready for another strike, but even a small taste of Hylia’s power was enough for the old tree. The roots twitched and shuddered like tentacles as they released the princess.

Link knelt as Princess Zelda stirred. She propped herself up on one elbow and pushed her hair back with shaking fingers. Her eyes opened, almost immediately welling up with tears, so she knotted her brows together in a fierce, desperate glare to keep them from spilling.

“Wh-what are you doing here? I was, I was just — the woods, it…”

A sob forced itself up her windpipe. Princess Zelda curled up again, this time seated with her back against the tree, and fisted her fingers into her hair. Link set down the Master Sword and listened to her confession.

She had purposefully ignored the hint by the braziers to take up the torch. She wanted a challenge. _To_ challenge — goading the Goddess’s power to manifest through need. But while the princess wandered the wood, things began to form just beyond the trees. She had walked only a few paces when a spectral stallion came galloping past. Its eyes were blank with panic and flanks slick with sweat. She threw herself out of the way of phantom hooves. The smaller of the two ghostly riders turned around to stare at her, the loose ends of a headdress flapping around its shoulders. 

The princess had lost her book when a figure came floating out of the darkness. Its skin was pale as the mist that surrounded them and crawling with sharp, angular lines of corruption. The princess had thrown her book at it in panic, but the apparition swatted back effortlessly with the long weapon it wielded. She had no choice but to flee.

The princess struggled blindly through treacherous thicket that scraped at her skin and deceitful bog that caked slime to her boots. She commanded, requested, begged the Goddess to show her the way, but her voice had been lost in the dense silver haze. She had failed to see the way it slowly gathered around her, twisting and squeezing into a new form… a monstrous, serpentine shape that chased her deeper and deeper. The darker and more tangled it became, the better. It was like the wood had peered into her nightmares and summoned the worst enemy Zelda had ever imagined, as real and ancient and fearsome as the legends always said.

Link felt a chill wash down his spine as Princess Zelda clenched her jaw. She pawed at her face, smearing tears across her cheeks until they were a little cleaner and her eyes were red but dry. The look she gave Link made it clear that he was never to acknowledge this story ever again.

He looked down at the Master Sword laying in the grass beside them. It surprised him how she hadn’t commented on its presence. Surely she felt the warmth emanating from the blade, like soft spring sunlight. “What about the Goddess’s sword?”

Princess Zelda shook her head. “It’s no use,” she said. “I’ll never find it.”

“But—”

“Please, Link.” Her shoulders were slumped over, and her eyelids were puffy. 

He obeyed. They prepared to leave. Princess Zelda moved slowly and reluctantly. Despite her desire to get out of the woods, Link knew that the prospect of walking through it made her nervous. The pouches on his belt shifted when he pulled himself onto his feet. Link slipped a hand into one. His fingers brushed against something soft and delicate.

“Here.” He gave it to her, ever so slightly worse for wear but surely recognisable. Princess Zelda’s face was pale in the gentle glow of the Silent Princess. Its petals trembled as a breeze whistled through the branches above, but the flower remained sweet and whole.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

They stayed close while they walked on. The mist swirled all around them. Princess Zelda grabbed Link’s free hand at the first sign of it wafting in. Her fingers were clammy and cold, but he squeezed back as tightly as he could. The Master Sword continued to shine bright in his hand, but the light it cast still wasn’t enough to show a way out of the wood. It refused to dowse like before. Link strained for any faint notes of music, but none came. He was on his own this time.

So Link felt the wind trailing its fingers through his hair and along his scalp, then moved with it, not against. He waited and watched for the mist to part on its own instead of trying to push it away. If the area ahead began to fade into dangerous white, he backed off. Sometimes they simply stood there, hand in hand, until the clouds lifted off the old grass and bent branches. Link glanced back at Princess Zelda. She was quiet, staring at the ground, still shaken by what she had been through.

The wood led them along, tugging them this way and that, testing Link’s patience and feeding his worry as the night stretched on. He had completely lost track of time. The sky above them was a smudge of nothing. Link kept changing his mind over its colour; it had no colour. Sometimes it seemed to glow, other times not at all. 

Link was surprised when he and the princess came upon… not a clearing, exactly, but a much less dense area of the wood. Several young (compared to their hefty, scarred neighbours, anyway) trees had been felled by some unknown source. Their stumps still loomed over Link and Princess Zelda, each jagged crown softened over time by the elements and lichen. There was no evidence of where their trunks had gone, save for a single log already half-decomposed with toadstools and blue nightshade pushing themselves through the mulch.

Link and Princess Zelda remained where they were. Neither trusted this sudden change. It was too suspect. Too exposed. Link’s palms were sweaty from clutching both the Master Sword and the princess’s hand, but he wasn’t going to let go of either. Suddenly, he felt the princess stiffen, a tremor in her arm as muscles contracted and fingernails dug into his hand. Link turned his head to where her wide green eyes were looking. 

Another pair of eyes stared back, gleaming yellow. Link heard panting, humid and heavy, each breath matching the heave of shaggy fur barely visible as a shadow that nearly blended into the mist. It padded forward from the stump where it had been lurking, and the wolf lifted its nose to the invisible heavens to howl.

More wolves came out of the wood, their paws dragging through the dirt and tails swishing against the grass. Their tongues dangled out between wickedly sharp teeth, bearing grins of utter insolence. The wolves circled Link and Princess Zelda, four of them in total.

Link felt his heart drop at the sight of them. This was the end. He would never reach knighthood. The Captain would never know what happened to him. All that would be left was the bloody rags of his cloak and the sword—

The sword.

It was blazing in his fist. The hilt was so hot against his hand that it was like holding onto a coal. It vibrated so intensely, so eager to do its duty. The words of the Deku Tree returned to him: _When used in the name of the Goddess, it will become suffused with a holy light. At such times, the true power of the sword will manifest. Use it with care, and wield it bravely for the one who needs you._

Link silently apologised as he slipped his fingers out of Princess Zelda’s grasp. Sensing movement, the wolves pounced.

The Master Sword was a dream. Link didn’t even feel like he was there, though he was watching with his own eyes the way the blade rose and fell with such grace. Beautiful, pristine arcs of light from the blade undulated through the dark and fog of the Lost Woods. The Master Sword wielded Link, not the other way around, and he obeyed every instruction. The wolves cringed when it came whistling over their ears and yelped in panic as the flat of the blade smacked them soundly on their furry rumps. Cowards that they were, the leader howled once more before dashing back into the anonymity of the wood.

Link turned back to Princess Zelda, who stood where he had left her white-faced and still. She had pulled a small penknife from her belt, but there hadn’t even been enough time for her to unfold it. She dropped it into the grass unceremoniously, rushing forwards and throwing her arms around Link’s shoulders.

“That was incredible!” She pulled back before he could work his face into an expression other than dumb shock and squeezed her fingers around his biceps in a hearty manner. “Oh!”

The way her face brightened prompted Link to turn around. The mist had suddenly cleared just beyond the barren trees, and the flames from a wooden brazier danced merrily in the distance. Princess Zelda immediately began walking to it, so Link had to pick up the Master Sword again and hurry after her.

Having returned to a place familiar and well illuminated, Princess Zelda was back to her animated and verbose self. “Do you realise what we’ve just done? We survived a night in the Lost Woods. Very few can claim such a feat! So the Goddess’s powers remains locked away, but that’s nothing new. At the very least, I can cross another theory off the list.” She looked back at him trailing a respectful two paces behind. “Your actions were quite helpful. Thank you.”

She waited until he had caught up, then surprised him again by taking his hand. “I have no idea what time it is. Father will be cross, like always, and Impa may be as well. But I’ll put in a good word to the Captain, at least. They can’t withhold you from training anymore, I promise. There are some perks to being a princess, you know…”

They walked under the crumbling stone archway. The jet-black wings of crows flapped away the fog, leading Link and Princess Zelda right into a squadron of the royal guard waiting at the entrance of Great Hyrule Forest.

The guardsmen in their uniforms froze in their positions: strapping on gear, soothing horses, and standing by King Rhoam. The King had lifted a hand in a fist over his heart, gems on his cuffs glinting in the weak morning light. Sheikah scouts in their dark, slim suits crouched upon the large boulders on either side of the road. Their muscles bulged, their gaze hard and zeroed in on Link. And in the centre of them all was the Captain. He stood in the middle of the road right in front of Link. His arms hung limply by his sides, shoulders sagged in disbelief and jaw dropped open at the Master Sword. 

Nobody moved. Everyone gaped at one another. The King’s eyes widened as he too noticed the long, smooth blade hanging from the winged hilt in Link’s hand. His tight frown melted into a wide smile. The soldiers around him furrowed their brows and blinked in disbelief, the Sheikah leaned forward breathlessly. The spell still didn’t break even when one of the Sheikah, a slender young woman, stepped forth to embrace Princess Zelda — who was looking at Link with amazement and despair, the cloud finally lifted from her eyes.

“The youth!” King Rhoam’s voice, like the Deku Tree, was deep and rumbling. But unlike roots secure and steady within the ground, it shattered the silence like a triumphant horn. “Pure of heart, toiling in the woodlands. See the spoils of his quest through the wood, the sword to seal the darkness!”

Link glanced down. The Master Sword was no longer shining. It was an old weapon, heavy and lifeless. But it was also still in his hand, and he had no trouble holding it out towards the Captain, who continued to stand there in silence.

The King pushed past him. His arms were stretched out in gladness, but he strode past his daughter towards Link. “The youth who draws forth the ancient sword shall be known as the Goddess’s chosen hero, and it is he who possesses an unbreakable spirit. He shall be burdened with the task of abolishing the shadow of the Calamity from the land. Such is his destiny. Welcome, noble hero. No longer will you toil, for I, King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule, declare you a knight with full honours, the Champion of our kingdom.”

He set his hands upon Link’s shoulders. Link felt his knees buckled under their weight. There was a ripple of movement behind the King as the guards and Sheikah dropped to their knees. After a moment, the Captain cast his eyes to the ground and followed suit.

Link felt his other hand falling to his side. He turned to see and felt his heart sinking at the cold hurt in Princess Zelda’s eyes. He hadn’t meant to betray her. He wanted to explain that he hadn’t purposefully withheld this secret from her, nor was he trying to gain praise or accolades by following her into the wood.

But with the way the King beamed down at him, the awe and reverence in the soldiers’ faces as they shuffled forward to behold the Master Sword. The bowed heads of the Sheikah, and the Captain finally looking right at him with full attention and wonder — wasn’t this what he wanted? He was a knight of Hyrule.

He just didn’t know that he’d get this wish like this. Never in his dreams, so green and mysterious.

The Master Sword fit into his palm. It would guide him onward.

To take destiny in hand and wield it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are! The end! Thank you so much for reading this. I would say sorry for the somewhat sorrowful ending, but I'm not very sorry ;D we know it'll get better a few years down the line, and even moreso over a hundred years later!
> 
> Thanks again, and hope to see you soon with more stories.

**Author's Note:**

> One of the things I love so much about fanfiction is the opportunity to explore something that's already known. The moment you, dear reader, clicked on this title, you knew what the ending is going to be. The mystery isn't who will be the hero, but how Link becomes the hero. So, I'd love to share a single suggestion, a possible path that he could have taken to get there. It winds around thick, gnarled tree trunks and involves little golden plant poops.
> 
> I'm really excited for the rest of this story and am grateful that it's caught your interest too. Thank you for reading!!


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